Confessions in the Dark
by RomeoMustDie
Summary: AU: Davina is in love with Klaus and desperate to make him fall in love with her... But his heart belongs to Elena. The Harvest witch goes to extremities to drive a wedge in their relationship. All magic comes at a price. She suffers the consequences and finds herself thrust into a unexpected love triangle with a man she never considered... Elijah Mikaelson
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Sorry for the long hiatus everyone. I've been going through some difficult life changes and was in a deep depression for a while, so it affected my creativity. I'm doing much better now, so hopefully I can keep up with my fanfics again. As much as we love our intoxicating dose of "Klena," I've decided to throw another obstacle in their relationship because... why not? It keeps things interesting :P As we've seen on the show, Elijah has a dark side to him... a side that's been tamely portrayed on the show, but I'd like to explore it in this fanfic. I'd like to reveal my version of the monster behind the man. So be prepared for a complex love triangle. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter One

To Love is to Suffer

She was blinded by envy. Scorching hot envy. Jealousy had slithered into her veins like a venomous snake, filling her heart with poison. What Davina was about to do was against everything she'd been taught by her elders. She sat inside a salt drawn circle and began to chant an incantation in Latin. Tears streaked down her face, quickly replaced by crimson blood as the furniture in the room started to tremble. The lights in her bedroom flickered on and off and the salt that she'd poured around herself was beginning to blow away. An invisible force had trespassed into the realm of the living and she was determined to bind it forever to herself.

With every passing second, her strength escaped her. She held on to remaining reserves of energy and completed the spell.

 _Inhale… exhale…_

The temperature in Davina's bedroom had drastically dropped. She could see her own breath, which meant that _she_ was here. She'd done it. She'd successfully completed a spell that had never been practiced by any other witches in the French Quarter. Davina had tapped into magic that was so dark, it was forbidden. But she didn't care. All she wanted was him, and if this was the only way to make him love her… then she was more than happy to sell her soul.

~oOo~

The Mikaelson manor was dead silent. All the guests had long departed, leaving a deserted banquet hall to be cleaned by staff the following morning. A sleeping Hybrid lay in a king-sized bed alongside a brown-haired beauty. Their passionate lovemaking had exhausted them both of their strength. With one arm draped possessively around Elena's waist, Klaus did not stir when she suddenly sat up, breathing hard, _terrified_.

Lost and disoriented, she faced her lover in the darkness and found no trace of comprehension as to how she ended up in his bed chamber. Panic filled her blood stream. She threw her legs over the bed and reached for the silk robe resting on an armchair.

Afflicted with sudden vertigo, she staggered toward the wall.

 _These legs are not mine,_ she fearfully thought. _Where am I? What is this place?_

As she reached for the door, she paused when she noticed her full reflection in the mirror across from her.

 _No… how…_

Slender fingers raked her face and hair, as if the features were completely alien to her. She stood in shock and horror, in disbelief of her physical existence.

Klaus remained fast asleep. She looked back at him, tears pricking her eyes.

 _He will never forgive me for this betrayal._

She had to leave. She had to run far, far away from him. The punishment would have been too severe if she stayed... if he found her. As much as she loved him, she feared him more. She wasn't sure where she would escape to, nor was she confident in her survival; all she knew was that if she stayed under that roof, she would be at risk… at risk of running into her captor. The Mikaleson's always stayed together… _always and forever._ She had to flee.

Her silken robe trailed behind her as she ran through a labyrinth; through long corridors and unmarked doors, until she reached an iron staircase. Freedom was close, or so she thought.

Down, down, down she went, padding her way around a corner with naked feet, expecting to reach her window of freedom… but her fragile body collided into solid muscle instead.

Terror in its rawest form claimed her mind and consumed it to the core. It was him—yet it wasn't at the same time. She recognized his face: his handsome features… but his clothing… his hair… his scent… all foreign to her.

"Elena, are you all right?"

She was a delicious little lamb; innocent prey that had been inevitably caught by a merciless predator.

"Elena," he softly spoke again, confused by her reaction.

His compassionate gaze had not betrayed the sinister monster that lurked within, she thought. She wanted to run. She wanted to run right past him and never look back. But something was beginning to crack her armored consciousness.

"Is something the matter?" he asked, genuinely concerned. "Why are you afraid of me?"

She took a step back and held out her arm, resisting, fighting an internal enemy that had no face. Her knees were giving out, ready for inevitable surrender. Ready to collapse at his feet. She fought. She fought with all her might to kill off the person he had groomed her to be… but it was no use. Tears misted her vision as she fell to the floor and bowed her head: a lowly peasant bowing before royalty.

"Please…" Her voice cracked. "Forgive me." Through silent sobs of anguish and shame, she found the courage to look up at him, expecting a slap.

His expression had not changed. Dark pools of warmth filled an empty cavern in her heart, and she feared it. She knew she was not worthy of such emotion, as he'd told her many times before; She did not deserve his compassion. She did not deserve love.

Another crystal tear spilled down her cheek. "Please…"

The realization settled into his mind as he slowly crouched, eye level with her. Her voice still belonged to Elena, but the accent… the accent was different. Elijah cupped her face and stared right through her.

 _How is it possible?_ He thought. _It can't be…_

"… Tatia."

"Master."


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Just letting you all know that I'm obviously changing Tatia's story arc and development. As the chapters progress you'll understand more about the depth of psychological damage that was done to her.

* * *

Chapter Two

Remember Me?

His heart constricted in his chest as he stared into Elena's rich brown eyes. How was it possible to see his beloved through the eyes of the woman who was promised to his brother? She looked so broken and vulnerable, so utterly at his mercy… convinced that he was still the same monster she'd known centuries ago. But he wasn't. Elijah had locked that part of him away after he'd lost Tatia, never to open that door again. He was a changed man, though she couldn't possibly have known that.

"How…" he fumbled to find the right words. The shock of this sudden revelation had possessed the moment entirely.

"Please don't punish me!" Tatia cried out. "Please, Master! Not the dungeon… please!" Tears filled her eyes and spilled to the floor as he held her face and felt his heart shatter to pieces. She was terrified, trembling in his embrace as he pulled her to his chest. She continued to beg for mercy to a man who had no desire to inflict the same pain he'd once inflicted on her—so remorselessly, sadistically.

"Niklaus… he took me! I never invited his affections! I... I d-don't understand how I… his b-bed…" She shook her head and sobbed even harder. "I disobeyed you, Master. It doesn't matter how I found myself in his bed. I deserve to be punished. I deserve it. I deserve it. I deserve it…" She ripped herself away from Elijah's arms and rocked back and forth.

He had damaged her. The evidence of everything he'd done to her fragile mind was right in front of him, mocking him. Elijah had no choice but to confront a phantom he'd thought he killed and buried; it had returned to haunt him. Perhaps this was his punishment, he thought. After all these years, the guilt had not been enough. Fate required another price for atonement: to return the woman he'd sadistically loved, broken beyond repair.

How could he possibly reach her mind now and undo all that damage? The Original pushed back his tears and reached for her hand. She recoiled from him as if he had an infectious disease.

"Master, what are you doing? I disobeyed you! I don't deserve your kindness!"

She pushed herself backwards until her back hit a wall, in which she continued her ritualistic rocking.

A broken beauty, Elijah thought to himself. Seeing her like this was like a dagger to his heart. Then again… what if it was merely dark sorcery at work? He knew he wasn't going to get any rational answers from Tatia in that moment. He had to wake his brother.

Elijah was fully aware of his long list of enemies, but he never thought someone would target him like this. He never thought anyone was capable of resurrecting his beloved. There were two victims in this situation: Elena and Tatia.

"Tatia," he breathed her name as softly as a lullaby, but she was unresponsive to his warmth.

As he approached closer, footsteps came down the stairs, demanding the Original's attention.

Freya and Klaus reached the bottom of the stairwell in concern and confusion.

"What's happened?" Klaus immediately gravitated to the woman he loved, pained by the sight of seeing her crying and rocking herself to oblivion.

"Niklaus—" Elijah said, immediately cutting himself off when he realized that he'd been too late.

Tatia had become even more hysterical as soon as Klaus crouched to the floor and touched her shoulders.

"Don't touch me! Don't ever touch me! Never! _Never_!" she screamed in that same accented vernacular.

Horror washed over Klaus's face as he rose to his feet and met his brother's sympathetic eyes.

"Why is she talking like this? I demand to know what's going on!"

Freya looked at her brother and waited for an explanation.

"It _looks_ like Elena… _walks_ like Elena… but it's _not_ Elena." He paused and switched his gaze back to the shadow of his former lover. "Tatia… somehow… she's managed to possess Elena's body. There's no other explanation. I'm just as confused as the rest of you."

The siblings looked at the broken young woman who kept muttering " _bad…punished_ …" over again like a mental patient.

"How the fuck did this happen!?" Klaus roared. His angry outburst only frightened Tatia more as she cried and hid her head in her arms, afraid that he would harm her the same way "Master" had done.

"Lower your voice, Brother," Elijah sternly said.

Freya decided to finally speak. "She's clearly suffering from some sort of post-traumatic stress." The Mikaelson witch carefully approached Tatia and tried to break through her haze of dementia. "You're okay." Freya smiled warmly. "You're safe. Please don't cry. Can you tell me your name?"

Tatia seemed hesitant, but was finally calm enough to utter, "My name belongs to Master. Master owns my name. Master owns me. I belong to Master."

"Bloody fucking Hell!" Klaus cursed in frustration. "What sort of madness is this? She has no business violating Elena's body and mind." Seething anger radiated off him as he approached his sister. "I want her back, Freya. Do you understand me? Exorcise this evil demon! She has no business rising from the dead only to inflict misery on my family once again!"

It hurt Elijah to hear the contempt in his brother's voice. Tatia was merely a victim of his own mind games; an innocent young woman who fell in love with the wrong man—a monster.

Freya tried her best to convince Tatia to follow her so that she can take her to one of the parlors in their home, but Tatia refused.

"Master must punish me." She sobbed, looking at Elijah for absolution. "I disobeyed him and he must punish me. It's the only way Master will forgive me."

Freya's glittering green eyes were on Elijah now. "What is she talking about?"

"Clearly you've skipped through some crucial years in your timeline, Elijah," Klaus stated. "Well, allow me to catch her up. This _broken_ ghost of a woman is none other than Tatia Petrova—a doppelganger, formerly known as our brother's _play-thing._ I must say, dear brother, that I never knew the extent of your need for control until now. Killing her was an act of mercy."

"Enough!" Elijah scowled, controlling his fury. "I will not allow you to berate me for the sins of my past. I am _not_ that man anymore and you know it. I can never atone for my transgressions, but your insults will not fix the situation at hand. Her mind is broken—I'm well aware of that. I've never been ignorant to the fact that I broke her."

"I don't give a fuck about the ghosts of your past!" Klaus strode toward Tatia again and began to shake her. "Elena! Come back to me, love!"

His frantic efforts only terrified Tatia more as she cried inconsolably, begging to be left alone. Freya finally intervened and gently eased her brother back. "Klaus, this isn't helping. Elena's gone, but I _will_ get to the bottom of this and fix it. Only dark magic can resurrect those who have passed on. Whoever has done this is certainly a witch or a warlock."

Klaus tried to move past his sister to try and get through to Elena again, but Tatia diverted his efforts and crawled toward Elijah. She sat on her knees and brought her wrists together, raising them. "Please, Master! Please just take me to the dungeon and get it over with. Please, I want my chains! I promise I will obey! I promise, Master!"

Klaus sneered at the disgusting display. The woman he loved would _never_ crawl to him—to anyone. Elena was the definition of obstinate. As much as it frustrated him, he also loved that about her. It hurt him to see her groveling at his brother's feet, begging for punishment. It was so out of character… it _wasn't_ Elena.

"Tatia, please," Elijah said, trying to pull her up. But she was becoming more delusional by the second. Before he could ask his sister for help, she waved her hand and chanted something in Latin…and just like that, Tatia was knocked out.

"Don't worry, she's fine," Freya assured. "It'll just be easier to move her now to a safe place. I'm not sure why or how this has happened, but I'll have it sorted out in no time." She placed a comforting hand on Klaus's shoulder and avoided Elijah's gaze.

"Let me carry her," Klaus said.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Magic Demands a Price

The following days at the Mikaelson mansion was chaos. While Freya worked tirelessly to undo the disaster brought on by an "unknown" enemy, Elijah was determined to rehabilitate Tatia and give her spirit peace before she'd be ripped out of Elena's body and sent to God knows where.

Klaus had spent most of his evenings isolated away from his family, deliberately keeping away from Tatia. It was too difficult for him to witness her psychological trauma, and even more painful to have lost Elena on the eve of her return to him.

A snake had trespassed into their garden, right under their noses. Davina relished in her feat, secretly gloating while scheming her next plan to get closer to Klaus and make him forget that he ever fell in love with Elena Gilbert.

She'd already been working her charms by spending time with him and offering him comfort. She had lied and made him believe that she was researching Esther's grimoires, when in reality she had no intention of finding a spell that could bring Elena back. She wanted Elena gone—permanently.

On the fifth night of Tatia's unexpected return, Freya stood across a round table in one of their lavish gathering rooms. Ancient scrolls, a Tibetan singing bowl, and an onyx crystal were laid out before her. Elijah had been pacing the window restlessly, as a sleeping Tatia lay peacefully on a sofa nearby. Despite his calm composure, he was truly in agony. Faced with the sins of what he had done to that poor soul… there was no escape, nor could he deny what he put her through. She'd learned to love the monster in him, and he'd destroyed the only woman who embraced him fully for what he was.

 _But that's not who I am anymore,_ Elijah thought, contemplating his torment in silence.

A loud thrash of thunder shredded the sky and vibrated the earth. The lightning flashed outside the windows and illuminated the darkness outside. The city was hit with a storm as rain began to pelt down on the roof.

"How much longer?" Elijah asked, turning to face his sister.

She broke her concentration for a moment and said, "I think I'm ready. Summon the others. I'll need to channel Davina in case it doesn't work the first time."

~oOo~

Silence had befallen everyone in the gathering room. Freya had begun her incantation while three other witnesses watched: anxious, _waiting_. Elena's sleeping body remained peacefully still, as if she had escaped to a place of sweet slumber. Klaus prayed she was not forced into some Hellish dimension while Tatia dominated her mind.

Davina was confident that Freya's spell would not work. She'd made a deal with a dark entity; that was how she'd come into possession of such dark magic. But what she failed to realize was that dark magic always came with a price, and making deals with demons meant that they were compulsive liars. There was always a loophole somewhere, and Freya had found that loophole.

She'd laid out a map of the city in front of her and informed her family that she would not only cast out Tatia's spirit, but would direct it straight into the body of whomever had summoned her spirit to crossover.

When the great grandfather clock struck midnight, the storm became more violent as the wind pushed open the windows. Klaus quickly shut them and locked the latch. A roaring fire burned and crackled on glowing red logs in the fireplace while everyone remained quiet; Freya needed to concentrate.

Half an hour had seemed to have passed and Klaus's patience was wearing thin. He was losing hope. But before he could protest and vent his frustrations, the lights in the room began to flicker. Freya's chanting became louder and louder as she spoke with powerful authority.

For the first time, Davina was worried. She wanted to sabotage Freya's efforts when suddenly the electricity cut off and the roaring fire was suddenly snuffed out.

A body collapsed and thudded against the floor.

~oOo~

Freya opened her eyes and wiped the blood that trickled down her nose. "What happened to Davina?" she asked Klaus, the first person to have crouched beside her unconscious body.

"She's breathing," he replied, withdrawing his fingers from her jugular vein. "Were you channeling her?"

"No, not at all. I didn't need to." Freya glanced down at the map, expecting the little valley of black sand to divide and lead them to their next destination.

But nothing moved.

"Did it work?" Elijah asked, hovering over Elena. "She hasn't woken."

"I don't understand." Freya frowned. "I did the spell correctly. Try and—"

Elena's eyes suddenly snapped wide open as she gasped for air. She clutched her throat and coughed, sitting up. A familiar pair of eyes found hers, and she instantly felt a rush of relief course through her nervous system. It was no longer fight or flight. She wanted to run directly into his arms, to feel safe again.

"Klaus…"

He breathed her name and closed the distance between them. All he could think about in that moment was abducting her from the world to protect her from every threat. He couldn't risk losing her again. It seemed a miracle that she returned to him much sooner than he expected. Where had she gone? Did she remember anything? He had so many questions, but the last thing Klaus wanted was to overwhelm her with an interrogation. He needed to breathe her in. He needed to keep her safe. They had been through far too much together to lose each other again. He couldn't risk it. Elena was his kryptonite.

"I thought I'd never see you again." Elena wept, allowing her tears free reign to fall.

"Nothing and no one can ever keep me away from you, love." Klaus wiped her tears and kissed her softly.

Freya was pleased to see that she had succeeded in casting Tatia's soul out of Elena's body, but she still couldn't understand why Davina had collapsed.

Elijah scooped the Harvest witch up in his arms and laid her down on a loveseat. But as soon as her body kissed the cushion beneath her, Davina opened her eyes. Terror rushed into her consciousness and shattered her mind.

" _No! Please, don't! Not the dungeon! Please, Master! No!_ " She cradled herself into a ball and cried, begging for her life, afraid that Elijah would harm her.

Freya was in disbelief. She could hardly wrap her mind around the fact that the person who had summoned Tatia was none other than Davina Claire. When she looked down at her map, she noticed that a trail of sand was pointing directly at the Mikaelson manor. As confusion cut through the room, she looked at her brothers and said, "Davina did it."

There was a short pause before Klaus erupted.

"I'll make her pay dearly for this!" He stood up, eyes glowing and ready for retribution. But Elijah rushed in front of him at vampire speed.

" _No_ , Brother." His eyes seemed to plead for mercy. "We can't be sure that Davina did this all on her own accord. She may be an innocent victim in this circumstance. Do not act impulsively and do something you may later regret."

Klaus balled his fists. "Someone must suffer the consequences!"

Elena stood up and gently reached for his arm. "Elijah's right."

Tatia's madness was quickly driving everyone mad. Freya did them all a favor and used magic to knock her out like she'd done before, so that they may come to a peaceful resolution.

"Elena," she said. "What was your last memory?"

"I remember… everything. It's like I was there—and not there. Tatia controlled my body… my mind. I took the backseat. I desperately wanted to break through, but I couldn't. Her memories became my memories." She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they found Elijah's anguished gaze. "You hurt her. You made her suffer. The things you did to her… How… how could you?"

"I was a tortured man, Elena," Elijah replied. "Battling a disease that had infected me since our mother turned us into what we are. I don't deserve to live for what I did to her."

"No." Elena shook her head, tears filling her eyes. "You're right. You don't. Whatever respect I had for you… it's gone. I can never erase the trauma I witnessed while Tatia possessed me. The way you abused her… She loved you, and you exploited that. You made her suffer. You killed her in the end. Her love for you was a death sentence."

The weight of her words crushed down on the Original like a ton of bricks. For centuries, his guilt had eaten him alive. If there was the slightest chance to restore Tatia's spirit to rest, he needed to try. Even _if_ Davina had been the one to conjure her spirit with malicious intent, he didn't care. All he knew was that the spirit of the woman he loved was now inhabiting Davina Claire's body. He had to make certain that no one in his family would harm her.

Freya took the opportunity to cut in and say her piece before any more tempers flared. "I think it would be best if we kept her confined for a while, until we figure out what to do next. I was dishonest with you both when I said that this spell wasn't dangerous. It nearly killed me tonight. I won't have enough strength to do it again—not anytime soon. I think we'd all like to know why Davina summoned Tatia, or if someone had coerced her into doing it. Either way, Tatia cannot use her as a human host forever. I'll speak with Vincent tomorrow about what happened tonight. I'm sure he can offer a way to help. In the meantime, I don't think we have to worry about anymore 'body snatching.' "


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Monster in the Dark

He grappled with demons too disturbing for description. Trapped within a chained coffin, hidden away in his psyche, Elijah knew very well that Tatia's return had resurrected his monster.

" _Master… please."_

The way she pleaded… the recollection itself was enough to spark life to his flaccid cock. That sick taste of sadistic pleasure… he'd once reveled in the sensation. Tatia's pain was his pleasure. He'd thought she could handle it. He was wrong. She lost her life because he'd gone too far and wasn't able to stop.

It had been unbearable staring into Elena's eyes, while knowing that Tatia was the one behind the mask. Elijah felt relieved that her soul no longer resided within a body that was identical to her own.

The notorious Katerina Petrova suddenly appeared before his eyes. Perhaps the only reason why he fell in love with her was because he felt unworthy of true love. She had Tatia's face, but not her heart; not her soul. He knew all about Katerina's transgressions, her unloyalty, yet he remained faithful to her as if he owed the universe a karmic price, as if he owed Tatia a lifetime of servitude to misery.

Freya's spell had saved Elena from such an unwelcome intrusion of pain and insanity, but the Harvest witch was now possessed by Tatia's spirit. The woman he loved had taken over the mind and body of seventeen-year-old Davina Claire.

 _Could she really have carried out such dark magic?_ Elijah thought. _If so, why? How did she learn about my history with Tatia?_

He tossed and turned in his sheets, unable to sleep; it was impossible to when _she_ was so close to him.

Elena had expressed earlier that night that she had been cognizant all throughout Tatia's possession, which meant that somewhere deep down… Davina was well aware of what had happened.

 _But maybe it's different for her. She's not a doppelganger,_ Elijah thought.

He desperately needed to communicate with Tatia—to tell her that he loved her and that that love never died; that he regretted hurting her so much… killing her. He never meant to drain her dry. He'd lost control.

"I never meant to kill you," Elijah whispered, tears brimming his eyes.

He sat up and dug his fingers through his hair. His chest was in pain. He didn't know how he was ever going to make things right. What if Freya or Vincent would never be able to cast Tatia out? What if he was never able to bring her spirit to rest? Was he sure that he even wanted her gone? A hurricane of thoughts ran through his head, all ending in deadly destruction. His mind was a mess.

Unable to ignore her weeping any longer, Elijah threw his legs over his bed and left his room. It was time's like this that he wished he did not have such acute hearing. Freya had advised him to keep away from Tatia until the morning, but he just couldn't. He couldn't close his eyes and go to sleep when he heard her crying. It was Davina's lamenting voice, but Tatia was the one in pain. _Tatia… his broken, beautiful Tatia_.

~oOo~

Elijah unlocked a door and entered the bedroom below his floor. He stepped into a dimly lit room and found her huddled in a corner like an abused, feral animal. Freya had removed all the mirrors in the bedroom for extra precaution in case she woke up. He was thankful that she did.

Red rimmed eyes instantly found his, imploring him to set her free from internal torment.

"Master…"

She crawled to his feet like a beaten, broken slave, clutching at his slacks. "I thought you had left me. Please do not be upset with me. Please, Master…" She reached for his waistband and tugged them down to stroke the sleeping serpent.

Elijah looked mortified as he tried to stop Tatia from what she had been trained to do. It was _his_ mind warped grooming: the mental abuse. He had confiscated her identity, claimed it as his own and replaced it with a mind controlled sex slave.

As much as he longed for her, he could never transgress any physical boundaries. It was Davina's body and he could not bring himself to violate a young girl like that, regardless of _whom_ it was inside the human host.

"Stop." He gently held her hands when she made a second attempt. "You don't have to."

"I must satisfy my Master's needs." She wept, reaching for his crotch again.

"I said, _stop_!" Elijah commanded.

That face he was peering into… that body. He was a man, and Davina was naturally a beautiful young woman. He had fought long and hard to become a master of control. He could not allow Tatia to undo him now. Not like this.

"As your master I demand that you cease what you are doing and rise." His tone revealed nothing but dominant authority as he firmly held his space.

He didn't have to tell her twice. Tatia obeyed as if his word was law. What Elijah didn't expect was to see Davina's naked body inches away from his—fully nude.

Tatia had discarded the white gown immediately after he told her to stand, thinking that he desired her to undress like he'd demanded many times before.

Something throbbed and twitched in his trousers. The arousal was unexpected. Davina had been in his presence frequently, and yet he never had this physical reaction.

 _Because she was always clothed, you imbecile,_ a voice echoed in his mind.

Unable to catch his breath, he was mesmerized by Davina's glorious nudity. Her beautiful, virgin body… so ripe… radiating femininity from every curve, every swell of her breasts… globes of flesh.

"I am yours, Master," Tatia murmured, reaching for his hand, guiding it toward the crevice between her thighs.

Something was stirring and raging inside of Elijah as he snapped out of it and yanked his hand away—anger swirling in forbidden desire.

"Dress yourself!" he shouted. " _Now_!"

Consumed with fear, she did as she was told and threw the night gown back over her head, refusing to meet his angered gaze. Tatia kept her head down: a dejected submissive, put in her place.

Elijah hated having to speak to her from a position of superiority, as if she was not his equal. But he knew this was his own doing. He had damaged her, and if he wanted any chance to repair that damage, he had to take it slow.

There was also Davina to consider. He did not want her to suffer any more than she possibly was. He refused to believe that she had been the one to do something so cruel as to conjure his first love and cause so much havoc. For what? Why?

As far as he was concerned, there simply was no motive. Davina was an ally, not an enemy.

If he had to masquerade as her slave master to keep Tatia in check—to prevent her sexual advances, then he had no other choice but to do it.

Davina's luscious figure was forever burned into his memory. Elijah realized that he simply could not trust himself around her… not while Tatia was still in there.

The big red door in his mind was violently pounding on the other side, echoing into his consciousness. He had to fight the urge. He had to kill those desires. He'd thought he had. After Tatia's death he never dragged his lovers into his darkness. He never took from them like he took from Tatia; he only gave.

Upon realizing that his monster was alive and attempting to escape his coffin, the Original feared for his sanity. He couldn't be in the same room as Tatia—not at that moment, at least. Not when sinful lust and unspeakable desires were infecting his mind by the second. She had every right to fear him. She could see what he refused to acknowledge: the monster had never died; he was merely asleep.

Elijah's hands were trembling. He was aware of his own nakedness from the waist up. He was aware of _her_ nakedness from waist down. That night gown was simply too short.

"Forgive me, Master." Tatia sniffled. "I never meant to disobey you."

Her accent was still so foreign to him. It was strange to hear Davina speak in old English dialect, he thought. But at least it reinforced the fact that it was _not_ Davina he was conversing with.

Elijah noticed her gaze lower to his nether regions, fixating on his tented trousers. He'd been so distracted by his fears and anxiety that he ignored the fact that he was painfully constricted in his boxer briefs. His evident erection could not be hidden.

 _On your knees, slave. Crawl to me. Suck me._

Disturbed by the sinister voice in his head. Elijah turned around and strode toward the door. He couldn't let him out. He wouldn't dare. But before he walked out, he paused and squeezed his eyes shut.

"I want you to get in bed, and go to sleep. That is an order, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Master."

* * *

A/N: So I've decided to devote a completely new story to Elijah, Tatia, and Davina. This chapter in particular will really get the development going. I'm going to call it _Confessions in the Dark._ I think it's only appropriate that I break off the narration at this point because this story revolves around Klaus and Elena form the beginning, but creatively I'm inspired to explore a dark romance between Elijah and Davina—I just like to challenge myself in that sense. So, with that said, if any of you loyal readers would like to read about this dynamic duo, then please follow the new story. I'm most likely going to re upload previous chapters so that it will make sense for new readers and then continue from there. Eventually I'll have to upload it to archive of our own when I collaborate with my friend, and also due to the explicit nature of the story. Things will get pretty dark… and it won't be appropriate to upload on here. If I get a huge following for the story, I will consider making a tumblr blog.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Plan B

ELIJAH

Seven days. For seven days I forced myself to stay away because I couldn't trust myself around her. She was so broken that I feared she would break me, too. I couldn't allow myself to open that coffin. My monster might have been alive, but I was more than capable of locking him away in his tomb. I didn't have to let him out. Being in Tatia's presence was too triggering. What happened a week ago… that night… much to my guilt, I'd been shamefully aroused. The sadistic beast I had long thought I'd killed, had never died; he was simply sleeping… _waiting._ His resurrection gutted me inside out.

 _This is who you are, Elijah. Embrace it. You will never rid yourself of me._

"Good evening, Brother."

I was pulled away from purgatory at the sound of Klaus's voice. He entered my study alone and poured himself a glass of scotch before sitting across from me.

"Is this how you spend your days now?" He swigged back his drink. "Voluntary isolation?"

How could I possibly make him understand? All our lives my brother believed that he was a wicked, monstrous beast. He needed only to look at me—to _truly see_ _me_ … he would've realized that _I_ was the real monster in our family, not him.

"Feel free to make this a two-way conversation, Elijah."

I finished my drink and set it on the coffee table. "I thought we all agreed that it would be best that she does not see me."

"You're right. However, Freya and I never agreed to your self-exile."

"I'm ashamed."

"I know."

"Drowning in guilt, misery… it's complete and utter torment."

"I trust it is, Brother."

"You have no idea how horribly I made that poor girl suffer. The things I did…"

I squeezed my eyes shut, in hopes of blackening the memories. They only became more vivid.

"You must consider the possibility that that might not even be Tatia… For all we know it could be an evil entity preying on your ultimate weakness."

No. He was wrong. It _was_ Tatia. I could feel it with every fiber of my being.

"Why are you telling me these things?" I asked, standing to refill my drink.

"Because Freya spoke to Vincent this afternoon," Klaus replied, "I'm only relaying everything he told her. Whoever has possessed Davina… might not even _be_ Tatia. Even when Elena was possessed—"

"Your theory has flaws." I interjected. "It makes no sense. After all these years… why now? Why me? I'm not negligent to the reality of our list of enemies… but there isn't a shadow of doubt in my mind that it's Tatia. We must figure out a way to lay her spirit to rest. There is no other alternative."

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

I turned to my brother, hiding my distress as I waited for an explanation.

"At least not yet," he added. "Freya must gather her strength for the next ritual. Fortunately, Vincent has agreed to help her this time."

"And what are we to do with Tatia—Davina while we wait?"

"Davina is still on every witch's hit-list. We are responsible for her safety. I promised Marcellus and I nearly broke that promise. She's become so unhinged, which has only increased the risk of her getting in harm's way."

I poured some scotch into his empty glass and sat back down. "What are you suggesting, Klaus?"

"It's not safe for her here. We must take her to a safehouse."

"Does this mean you believe that she hasn't brought this on herself?"

"She's a sweet girl. In the short time that I got to know her… I don't believe she did this. You and Freya were right. We must protect her. She's our 'wild card,' after all."

I felt oddly at ease upon hearing this, but was caught off guard by what my brother suggested next. His proposition was impossible to me.

"I cannot," I firmly stated.

"There is no other choice, Elijah. You must take her."

I didn't want to be alone with her. I simply could not.

"Niklaus, I can't." I looked at him with desperation, praying he would understand without me having to explain.

"You are not the same man you once were, Brother."

He was wrong. I wasn't a man. I was a monster.

"I know it is painful to be around her, but she only listens to you. Freya can't keep her comatose for weeks. She's your pet, take care of her."

"Do not speak of her that way!"

I didn't mean to lose my temper, but it was difficult to keep a level head when everything within me was raging.

Klaus got to his feet and touched my shoulder. "My sincerest apologies—bad joke." He smiled.

I moved away from him and loitered near a window, gazing at the city. "When am I to take her?"

"The sooner the better."

"Tonight?"

"Yes. Freya's spell will keep her knocked out long enough for you to transport her to the safehouse. I have to stay back and arrange some things with Marcelle before joining you. Our sister will arrive there much sooner, by the end of the week."

I felt relieved to know that I wouldn't be entirely alone with Tatia.

"No point wasting any time now," I said, swigging the rest of my liquor. "I'll do it."


	6. Chapter 6

Music inspired:

James D. Stark- _Realize_

* * *

Chapter Six

The Safe House

It was almost four in the morning when Elijah arrived in front of an old Victorian mansion. He parked his car in the circular driveway and turned off the ignition. The driver side door of the Audi swung open as the Original stepped out, clad in an expensive Italian suit, per usual. A full moon had risen, offering light in a sea of darkness.

He unlocked the front door of the mansion first before he left it ajar and retraced his steps to the vehicle. Gravel crunched beneath his shoes, quieting briefly when he stopped at the passenger door. Elijah opened it, unfastened the seatbelt, and scooped Davina's unconscious body in his arms before he carried her up a limestone staircase.

~oOo~

She could hear his breathing, the faint sound of his heartbeat drumming away as he carried her up a flight of stairs. As hard as she tried to open her eyes and regain agency over her body, Davina could not win the battle; the other inhabitant was much stronger. She, on the other hand, had been cast away into a dark abyss, given only a small window of freedom into the world she once knew. She could peer through it, but she could never make contact.

Aftershave and musky cologne enticed Davina's senses. She could _smell_ him. He was closer to her than ever as she felt her body being lowered to what she believed was a bed.

 _Don't leave me,_ she said, shunned away in a sanctuary of silence. He would never hear her.

She needed to open her eyes. She hated this darkness—this paralysis. At least when Tatia was conscious she could see what was happening around her.

Silence.

Footsteps.

A window cracking opening.

Davina always pitied the blind, but she never understood how strong her other senses would become once her sight was taken away.

Elijah's footsteps drew nearer as she felt the weight of his body sink down the side of the mattress.

This wasn't a fairytale. She wasn't _Sleeping Beauty;_ "true love's kiss" would not wake her from her hundred-year slumber. She was merely paying the consequences for dabbling with dark magic; magic that was beyond her teenage comprehension. The universe had exacted its revenge on her, and now she had to accept her suffering. She felt nothing but regret.

"Tatia."

A hand reached for hers and gently squeezed.

"Forgive me." Elijah's voice was evenly composed, though she could still hear a hint of pain in his confession.

"I know you're in there." He paused for what seemed like the longest minute of Davina's life. "Please understand that I never meant to—" He paused again, squeezing her hand tighter.

She understood his apology.

Davina had seen it. She'd witnessed what he had done to Tatia when Tatia showed her. All that _blood_ … his fangs… his eyes… the torture equipment. Tatia had been in love with the Devil.

"I was never worthy of your love then," Elijah expressed. "and I'm not worthy now. I thought I had purged myself of this darkness after your death, but your return has only revived what had died along with you all those years ago."

A lock of hair was gently brushed away from her face. Davina's skin involuntarily tingled and responded to his touch.

"I will find a way to free you. This I swear to you."

She had never heard Elijah sound so unapologetically vulnerable. He was in pain. She could have sworn she'd heard a stifled sob, but she needed to open her eyes to see—to be sure.

"I love you, Tatia. I never stopped."

She felt a tug at her heart strings when his lips grazed her forehead.

 _Is this her pain I'm feeling?_ Davina wondered.

His hand slowly slipped away from hers.

 _Don't go… don't leave me._

Their voices had blurred and she could no longer tell who had said it first. Was Tatia awake, too? Or was she completely alone in the darkness?

 _Tatia,_ Davina called out.

No answer.

Silence.

Before she could make a second attempt, Davina felt her right shoe slip off her foot.

 _Oh my God._ Panic pounded in her brain. _Is he really going to undress me?_

Thankfully, he only did her the courtesy of removing her boots and socks, so that her feet could breathe.

 _Elijah, the perfect gentleman,_ Davina thought. It was such a disturbing contrast when placed beside the man he once was: _the monster._

Davina was still embarrassed about standing stark naked in front of the Original last week. She hadn't been in control, of course, but it had still been humiliating to surrender her will and watch Tatia do whatever she wanted. If she jumped off the roof tomorrow, there was no way Davina could stop her. She was completely at her mercy.

The only man she ever thought about stripping for had been Klaus. But that night… it had been the first time she'd ever seen Elijah without a suit on. His naked chest, chiseled abs, the tattoos… that _dark_ look in his eyes. He wanted her. The evidence of his growing erection had betrayed him.

A sweltering heat radiated between her thighs. Davina felt ashamed for acknowledging it. She'd never seen Elijah as anything more than a strong ally. Their awkward encounter last week had made her feel as if she was fumbling in the dark, desperately trying to run away from a dangerous attraction she knew she _should not_ feel. The faster she ran, the stronger the attraction grew, chasing her like a blood hungry bounty hunter.

She was only seventeen—hormones raging, mistaking love for lust, and lust for love. Her bond with Klaus had confused her into believing that she wanted more.

 _I still love him,_ Davina thought. _I still wish he was mine._

She convinced herself that the only reason why she felt any sort of attraction towards Elijah was because of Tatia's influence.

 _That_ must _be the only reason._

Elijah had left, and the sound of crickets chirping into the night finally put Davina to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Trauma

Suspended from the ceiling… swaying side to side… wrists bound in chains as a pool of blood spread beneath her. The scent of copper and rust: it was _her_ blood, dripping from her neck. Tatia was covered in puncture wounds—shoulders, thighs; he hadn't spared her from the lethal bite of his fangs.

"Answer me, _slave_!"

The stinging kiss of a whip cracked against her back, leaving welt marks that would bleed if he whipped her one more time.

Tatia's painful cries echoed in the dungeon when she felt the weight of his whip, ruthlessly flogging her over and over until her back was covered in a tree of blood. Crimson branches, dripping, marking her delicate skin. _He_ had marked her, _claimed_ her.

" _Please_ ," she begged. " _Please, Master_ …"

He had broken her. She was beaten and battered, left to bleed out.

" _I beg of you,_ " Tatia sobbed.

All her strength escaped her as she went limp, bowing her head in surrender. Every muscle in her body ached. Her wrists were shackled in iron cuffs, stretched above her head to the ceiling. Those chains were the only thing supporting her weight, lest she collapsed.

Her cheeks were drenched in tears, spilling to the floor.

Elijah Mikaelson opened his grip and allowed the whip to fall. Like a dangerous predator he circled his prey as Tatia continued to beg for mercy. He stopped in front of her and clutched her throat.

"Such a pretty little thing." He flashed a wicked grin.

Tatia raised her heavy eyelids and stared into the eyes of the man she loved—except that man had disappeared. In that moment, the only thing she was staring at was a monster: a sinister being that hid behind the man she would have given her life for.

He reached for her throat and began to squeeze, cutting off the oxygen to her brain.

Another crystal tear betrayed her and spilled down her face, which only seemed to excite her Master more.

 _I'm going to die. He's going to kill me. I'm ready. I'm ready to be free._

Right before Death came to claim her, Elijah released his grip, taking pleasure in her distress as she gasped for air.

"You deserved this, Tatia." He invaded the space between her thighs and impaled her with two fingers.

She screamed.

The memory immediately evaporated from Davina's mind. She no longer had access to the horrors that Tatia had endured.

~oOo~

"Elijah?"

The Original's eyes snapped open. He glanced at his expensive Rolex: a quarter after three. She'd slept so long, he was worried she would never wake up. He couldn't leave her alone. Tatia was too volatile and posed a threat to Davina's physical safety.

 _You're the real threat,_ a voice whispered in his mind.

"Have you been watching me sleep?"

Surprised by her unexpected breakthrough to sanity, he stood up and carefully approached her.

"You're not afraid of me?" His gaze seemed nervous.

"Why would I be afraid you?" Davina's face lit up, but it wasn't her behind the wheel. "I knew you'd come for me. My father cannot keep us apart."

A knife twisted inside Elijah's heart as he quickly realized that her mind was still just as shattered as before. She was lost within a fragmented memory: a time in their tragic history that did not belong to the present.

"He's wrong about you." She abandoned the bed and rushed into his arms. "They're all wrong."

He couldn't tell if he was paralyzed by the contact or because she was no longer damaged by the onslaught of psychological torment. Elijah gently pulled her away and searched Davina's clear blue eyes. Somehow, the shadow of the woman he loved was inside.

"Do you know where you are?" he asked, fearing the answer.

Davina's lips morphed into a beaming smile. "Of course I know where I am!" She giggled. "You've brought me to your castle. I knew from the moment I saw you that I loved you. I knew you'd come for me." She leaned into his lips for a kiss, but Elijah stopped her.

"No, Tatia."

He noticed the hurt on her face and it killed him inside.

"What's wrong? Have you changed your mind? Do you not wish to marry me?"

"That's not the reason." He held her shoulders. "I need to explain something to you, and I need you to listen to me carefully." Elijah gently touched her face. "Please, my love."

He took her by the hand and guided Tatia toward the bay view window. He seated her in a wingback armchair and found a silver hand-mirror in the vanity drawer before pulling his chair closer. After he set the mirror face down on a table beside her, Elijah seated himself.

"Do you remember dying?" he dared to ask.

"Dying? What do you mean? How can I be dead if I'm right here?" She laughed.

The softest sigh escaped his lungs before he asked another question. "Do you remember the dungeon?"

Tatia blinked a few times. "You are confusing me, my darling."

Elijah rubbed his temples. He glanced at the mirror and asked her to pick it up.

"What is it?" she said with curiosity. "Is it a gift?"

"Pick it up and look through it." The Original was on edge, but he didn't show it.

She did as he instructed and raised the mirror to her face. Instead of screaming or panicking, she met his eyes, revealing Davina's pearly white smile. "It's me!"

Elijah frowned. That answer had not been what he expected. "What color are your eyes, Tatia?"

"Why, they're brown! I've never seen my reflection before. In water, yes—but…" She trailed off, fascinated by the mirrored glass.

He soon realized that she was not in touch with reality. Her perception of the world was entirely different from his.

"What sort of contraption is this?" she asked with excitement. "It's… it's like magic!" She giggled. "Now I know why you're in love me."

Elijah ignored her question and stood up. Mirrors had not yet been invented in the 10th century.

"Have I upset you, my love?"

He looked at her and clenched his jaw. How was he to help her realize the truth? He needed Freya. He couldn't do this alone.

"I beg of you," said Tatia, "what troubles your mind so?" She stood up and moved toward him. "If you are worried my father will—"

"No." Elijah shook his head. "That's not it."

"Then tell me." She cupped his face. "Is it because of Niklaus? Has he—"

"No, Tatia." He gently removed her hands.

"Why won't you let me touch you?"

"It's complicated, my love." It pained him to see her hurt by his lack of affection.

If memory served him correctly, she had no idea he was a vampire at that point in their relationship, when he'd taken her away from her family. Her mind was already broken, but was it wise to tell her the truth of the situation and send her spiraling to delirium again? Elijah contemplated this decision as he looked at her.

He finally stroked Davina's angelic face and said, "I fear that if I kiss you, I will not be able to restrain myself. I will not strip you of your virtue. We must find the strength to wait until we are married."

It was the only diversion he could think of, even though it was a lie. He loved Tatia. He wanted nothing more than to express that love to her in every way possible, but Elijah could not ignore the fact that the body Tatia possessed did not belong to her; it was Davina's. He had no right to gratify his desires and force himself on the poor girl. He couldn't allow himself to do that. Abstinence was the only way, no matter how badly Tatia yearned for intimacy, _he_ was the one who was ultimately in control.

"Your passion for me never ceases to amaze me." She smiled, wrapping her arms around him.

 _A hug,_ Elijah thought. _A harmless hug. This I will allow. But nothing more than that._

"I shall respect your request," Tatia added, "because I love you. If you are to be my husband then I must respect you, and I do, very much." She gazed up at him and kissed his cheek.

It warmed his heart to interact with her like this; to once again speak to the woman he knew before he'd broken her beyond repair. She used to be so full of life, hope, and happiness. She had been his beacon of light in eternal darkness. All he did was destroy her.

"You must be hungry," Elijah said. "Come. I'll feed you."

Something went terribly wrong.

She backed away from him, trembling in fear. Her hysteria had returned, infecting her mind as she slipped away from him.

 _Feed._

The word must have triggered her.

* * *

A/N: Please drop me a review if you'd like to see more chapters!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Darkness Falls

DAVINA

I was falling again… deep into a chasm of darkness. The bedroom… Elijah's face… everything became shrouded in black as my body hit a concrete floor.

 _Pain_.

I lay on a hard, wet surface, aching all over, wondering if I had died and gone to hell.

 _Where am I?_

Slowly, I pulled myself up and scanned my surroundings. Fire-lit torches were mounted on the wall, but it didn't make my fear disappear. Chains were hanging from the ceiling like dead, steel snakes, dripping with…

I looked at my feet and screamed when I noticed the blood.

A heavy iron door scraped against the floor and screeched opened. I backed away until my spine hit the wall.

It was _him._

"Are you ready for your punishment, slave?"

His hair was longer and his clothing—was different. Was I truly in hell? Or was this another piece of Tatia's memories? I wanted to leave. I wanted to run. But there was nowhere to go. Terror clutched at my throat and threatened to kill me. Slowly, I sank to the floor and hugged my knees to my chest.

The sound of a thick, heavy chain, scraped behind him as he stalked towards me.

 _No. Stay away!_

He crouched in front of me and clasped a rusty iron collar around my neck. I could hardly breathe. Tears were flooding down my face as I cried.

It wasn't my voice.

It was Tatia's.

"You're so beautiful when you cry."

He gently stroked my cheek, his expression changing from vacant to warm and loving.

It didn't last.

I felt the pain first before I even realized what he'd done. My face stung, blooming with redness. He'd slapped me.

"I will not go easy on you tonight."

He dragged me… _dragged_ _me_ across the bloody concrete, as if I were a dying animal ready to be butchered alive.

"You wanted to love the monster." Elijah chuckled, making my skin crawl. "You made a fatal mistake. You should have run when I begged you to. Now I will never let you go. _Never."_

His sinister voice echoed in my mind as I struggled to regain my eyesight. That heavy slap had me seeing stars.

 _Why won't she speak? Why won't she fight back?_

I was in Tatia's body—but I wasn't _her_. I wanted to defend myself. I wanted to attack him with all the strength I could muster.

I couldn't. I couldn't even lift my arm to push him away.

In a matter of seconds, my wrists, ankles, and torso were strapped onto a wooden cross. It was only then that I realized I was naked. I had never felt so terrified in my life.

"I can smell your fear," he said, stepping closer, black spider veins forming under his eyes as he bared his fangs. "Now I'm going to _taste it._ "

A blood curdling scream.

Terror.

Carnage.

My mind had shattered into pieces. There was no way I could survive these memories and return to myself as I once was. I had to protect myself from Tatia's trauma, otherwise I'd end up just like her. I had to get us out of this dungeon. I had to barricade it somehow and keep her from returning to this place.

Through sheer force of will, my consciousness floated out of Tatia's body and into darkness again. I had returned to the safety of nothingness, though I could still hear her screams _… the painful cries… the sound of a cracking whip… her mournful pleads._

I had to fight for my sanity. If I were to survive this, I had to figure out a way to manage her mind. If I couldn't erase the memories, I might have been able to repress them. It seemed to have worked when I'd tried it earlier. But something triggered her.

I continued to float in a blanket of black while their voices echoed all around me.

 _Listen to my voice, Tatia,_ I said, praying I could reach her somehow.

 _You're safe. Elijah won't hurt you. You're_ safe _. Listen to me and let me in._

"Please don't hurt me! Don't hurt me, Master! No more!"

I was disturbed by the sound of my voice, resonating into my dark chasm of chaos.

"Tatia," Elijah said, his voice full of anguish—so different from the other Elijah I had seen in the dungeon.

 _Tatia, listen to me._ I tried once more to make contact. _Let me_ _in, please. I promise I will protect you. No one can hurt you anymore. I promise. I promise he won't hurt you. I won't let him!_

A sliver of white light was slicing through the darkness, blinding me as it grew stronger. I squinted and covered my eyes with an arm.

When I opened them again, I found myself in a labyrinth: a green maze—in a garden. The sky was dark, but I seemed to have been in some sort of courtyard. The bushes were landscaped and the ground beneath me was lush green grass.

 _Where am I?_ I wondered.

Elijah and Tatia's voices still echoed into my consciousness. He sounded like he was trying so hard to calm her down, but she was lost in schizophrenic paranoia. Wherever Tatia was in her mind, I couldn't find her.

 _Why am I here?_ I wondered, walking cautiously through the maze. I noticed one wooden door after another.

 _A vault of memories?_

I could only assume that they were doorways into the shattered mind of a girl I had stupidly resurrected. The things we do for love.

There was nothing sinister or ominous about these doors. They were ordinary wooden doors. But as I turned the corner in the labyrinth, I noticed one particular door that was different from the others: fireflies were floating all around it.

 _Fireflies…_

I remembered chasing them in my Grandmother's garden as a child. For some reason, I felt compelled to open it and walk through—as if this door was _my_ door, not Tatia's.

As I reached for the handle, I held my breath and twisted the knob.

Another flash of blinding light.

~oOo~

Floor.

Bedroom.

Daylight.

Elijah Mikaelson.

 _Oh my God._

He tilted my chin and searched my eyes for an answer I wasn't sure I had.

"Davina?"

* * *

A/N: Thank you to my readers who left me reviews so far. I really appreciate it. Your feedback keeps me motivated to continue writing. xx


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

DAVINA

"I…"

He carefully pulled me to my feet. The room was unfamiliar to me, but at least I was no longer stuck in hell.

 _Am I really back? Has she really gone?_

"Davina, is that you?"

Confusion painted Elijah's face with worry as I struggled to get a grip on reality.

"I think… I'm back," I managed to say, fearing that I'd jinx myself if I actually said it.

My head was pounding. My body ached and I had no idea why. Before I could think of anything to say, Elijah pulled out his phone and made a call.

"She's back… Davina, yes… I'm not sure… It's possible… See you then."

It was a short conversation and I didn't know if Klaus had been on the other end, but it was one of his siblings for sure.

Elijah's dark brown eyes met mine and did something to me I never expected. I wanted to hold him. I wanted to hide myself in his arms and cry.

 _Oh God. I'm not alone._

She hadn't left me. She was still there, hiding in my head, safely protected by my shield of sanity. I could feel her. Tatia was the one who wanted to be held, not me.

 _What the hell happened?_

I needed to sit down, otherwise I was sure to collapse. Elijah noticed my weakened state and helped me onto a chair.

He sat across from me, leaning in.

"Tell me everything you remember."

Where was I supposed to start? I was staring into the eyes of a reformed sadist. I should have felt the fear and terror that Tatia felt, but I didn't. It was gone. My mind was fully aware of all the horrible things he had done, but my emotional well had not been poisoned by this knowledge.

 _What have you done, Tatia?_

We seemed to have swapped places. I wasn't sure if this was a last resort coping mechanism of hers, or if it was the consequence of walking through that door. Had she placed that door there for me deliberately?

I would've drowned in her dementia if she continued to subject me to those horrifying memories.

"Davina."

 _No. Don't look at him,_ I told myself, averting my gaze and fixating on the window.

For some reason, I just couldn't look him in the eye. He made me feel things I didn't want to feel.

 _These emotions don't belong to me. They belong to you, Tatia._

There was nothing but somber silence in my mind, but I knew she was there. I felt her haunting presence.

"She showed you," he said. "Didn't she?"

I swallowed hard and tried to fight back my tears. "Yes."

"How much?"

"Does it matter?" I finally met his gaze.

Elijah lowered his head. I guess he was ashamed.

Good. He should've been ashamed.

"I can't take it back. I can't turn back time. I needed her to know—to understand that I was sorry… so very, very sorry." Pain and agony had thickened his tone.

I noticed something drip onto his trousers.

"I needed her to know that I had changed." He wiped his eyes. "The least I could have given her was peace before she left me for good."

"She hasn't left you," I blurted out, much quicker than I would've liked.

Elijah raised his head, staring in what seemed like disbelief.

"She's still here—in my mind," I reiterated. "I can feel her."

He looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. I'd never seen him look so gaunt and tired. An unforgiving sadness seemed to have claimed his soul. All the mystery had faded. He was no longer an enigma to me. I'd seen the monster he hid behind the man.

His flawless suits, his charisma, his charming personality: it was all a costume; a costume he wore to cloak the demon within.

"Can you reach her?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. I thought I'd have some sort of telepathic link to her, but she doesn't respond. I just… I feel her in there, lingering in my mind."

He stood up and started to pace, assumingly sorting out his own racing thoughts.

I wasn't expecting this to happen. I still didn't understand exactly _what_ had happened.

 _You let me steer, didn't you?_

Still no response.

"You need to eat," Elijah said. "Come. We can discuss things afterward."

~oOo~

I sat, perched on a stool near an island in the checkered floor kitchen of his mansion. A chubby looking woman with red hair, in a maid's outfit had prepared lunch for me. Apparently, hiring a full staff of employees to look after me and the household was the first thing Elijah did in the morning.

 _I wonder if he compelled them._

I chewed the last morsels of my turkey sandwich and took a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice. I was starving. I couldn't remember the last time I ate. I felt like I was knocked out most of the time.

 _Was Freya the one to bathe me?_

I hoped to God it wasn't Klaus or Elijah.

"Would you like another sandwich, sweetie?"

"No," I lied. "Thank you, _Mrs_.…"

"Jones, dear. Mrs. Jones." She beamed. "But feel free to call me Kora. The master of the house just hired us today."

She spoke with an English accent, but it wasn't the same sort of accent that Rebekah and Klaus had. I guess it didn't sound as… posh?

"Mrs. Jones, you may address me as Elijah. No need for formalities, please." He turned away from the window and offered a friendly smile.

"Thank you, Elijah."

Funny, coming from a man who _loved_ that word. Tatia practically worshipped him and that was all she ever called him. _Master_ this, and _Master_ that. How could she have ever fallen in love with a monster?

"I'd like to take a shower and freshen up, if you don't mind," I said to him.

"Not at all." He regarded Mrs. Jones and said, "Kora, will you please escort my guest to the available bedrooms on the East wing?"

"Of course, Sir."

She took my empty dish away from me and placed it in the sink before she walked around the dark granite island.

"Follow me, dear."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

DAVINA

It felt so good to just stand under hot water and let my body breathe in steam. At least I had control now—well, _some._ She was still there, hiding beneath the surface of my consciousness. A painful lump had formed in the back of my throat and I wanted to cry my eyes out. The absurdity of it all was that I wasn't even sure why.

Was I feeling sorry for myself? Was that it? Or was I just getting over the shock of trauma?

This much I knew: I was an emotional mess and my confusion wasn't helping.

Tears hazed my vision as I gave up the fight and just let them fall, at least they'd blend in with the shower rain. It was difficult to digest everything that happened in the past hour. All I wanted to do was leave this place and return to my mundane existence, even if it meant that I could never have Klaus to myself. My body and mind had been stolen from me and it was all my fault. I knew that I had brought this on myself. I had to prepare for Klaus and Elijah's interrogation. I couldn't let them know that I was the one who had done the spell and brought Tatia back. As wrong as it was to have done what I did, my survival was on the line. If they cast me out of their protection, the covens would kill me. I didn't want to be a dead witch, rotting away in some gloomy crypt.

I was suddenly startled when I heard a knock on the bathroom door.

"Are you all right in there, darling?"

It was Kora.

"Uh, yes! I'll be right out!"

Shit, I must've lost track of time.

 _How long was I standing in here?_

~oOo~

I finished showering and as soon as I stepped out of the bathroom, Kora was waiting for me.

"The Master was worried." She smiled, almost in a guilty way.

"He's no 'master' of mine." I walked past her, feeling bad for making a rude impression.

"Regardless of his wishes, dearie, he will always remain as Master to me."

I rolled my eyes, thankful that my back was to her.

"I took it upon myself to put your things away. Your clothes are in that wardrobe closet, and the remainder of your things are in the chest of drawers over there." She pointed.

I didn't realize that he'd brought a suitcase full of my things. Freya must have packed.

"Master Mikaelson will be expecting you shortly in the library."

"I don't know where that is."

She smiled understandingly and said, "Viktor will be waiting for you down the hall on your left. He will be your guide."

"Viktor?"

"The butler."

 _Just how many people were staffed in this mansion? In such a short amount of time?_

I shouldn't have been complaining. I'd spent nearly a year in some dusty old attic in a rundown church; this place was a fancy hotel in comparison.

After I dried myself, I changed into a knee-length skirt, white top and faded denim jacket before I slipped on a pair of ankle boots. I didn't bother blow-drying or styling my hair, nor did I put any effort with makeup. All I did was tie my wet hair in a messy bun, and presto, I was ready.

~oOo~

Viktor had been exactly where Kora said he'd be—in uniform and all. He wasn't a very tall man—probably mid-50s. A thick mop of greying hair covered his head, twisting in little curls at the end. What stood out the most was his kind blue eyes.

Unlike Kora, he didn't talk much. I followed him down a winding staircase, through hallways left and right (which seemed to take forever), until we reached a set of dark mahogany doors.

"The Master is inside waiting for you." He opened the door and gestured that I step inside.

"Thank you," I said.

Viktor bowed his head before he shut the door, leaving me to face this monstrous room and Elijah by myself.

 _I'm so not used to this,_ I thought, wondering if Tatia could hear my stream of consciousness.

I was in pure and utter awe. The library was gorgeous. The walls were covered in shelves full of books, leading to a second level. The ceiling was covered in stained glass, allowing natural light to shine through in a medley of colors. I had entered a wonderland of literature, breathing in the scent of old books and burning wood.

A roaring fire was dancing in the fireplace; I found him sitting in an armchair with a book in his lap and a drink in his hand, right across from it.

He looked up at me and I froze.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better." I rubbed my arm nervously.

"Come." He faintly smiled. "Sit."

I beckoned my legs to move, but they felt like heavy cement blocks. Somehow I managed to make it to the armchair and sit on the plush red cushion.

Elijah sat across from me, staring, studying me—presumably.

"Kora prepared some tea." He gestured to a silver trolley on my right.

"I'm good. Thank you."

I couldn't understand why my heart was racing. It wasn't fear that I was feeling, though I _should've_ been scared. I should've been terrified. He was a monster in human skin.

Elijah parted his lips to speak.

"I would have taken you back home today, but since Tatia is still in there…"

I nodded in understanding. "I get it. It's totally cool."

Was it? Someone else was sharing my mind, influencing my feelings. There was nothing "cool" about it.

"Davina, before we go any further in this conversation, I must ask… were you the one who conjured Tatia's spirit from the dead?"

I had to lie. I had no choice.

"Are you serious?" I frowned, pretending to look hurt by the accusation. "Why would I ever do something like that? I hardly even know you. I never even knew who Tatia was until she shared her memories with me and I put two and two together."

"Forgive my boldness. It was not my intention to offend you. It's just…"

He started to explain what happened during the night of Freya's ritual, after I became possessed.

"The spell," he continued, "it was supposed to direct Tatia's spirit into the body of the person who carried out the resurrection ritual."

When in doubt, _deny._

"I don't understand why her spirit entered my body. I had nothing to do with the ritual. I've been staying under your family's protection and I've always been grateful for that. I've never had a hidden agenda against you or anyone in the Mikaelson family—ask Marcelle! He knows me best."

I felt horrible for dragging Marcelle into this. He would've been so disappointed in me if he ever discovered the truth.

Elijah was quiet for a moment, which gave me hope. Maybe I _was_ convincing after all.

Did I feel bad about what I did? Yes, very. If I could've taken it back, I would've. I'd done something stupid and it almost cost me my life—possibly still could've.

"Please believe me, Elijah. I would never do anything to harm you or your family. I see you all as my allies. The only enemies I have are the witches in the French Quarter, not the Original vampires."

This wasn't a lie. The only person I felt threatened by was Elena. She came out of nowhere and took Klaus away from me, right when he and I were getting close.

"I believe you," he finally said, shifting in his seat. "Quite frankly, I tried to analyze everything myself, and nothing added up. You have no motive. I think we have a bigger enemy lurking in the shadows. Someone who is targeting me, not my brother."

"I'll do whatever I can to help, you know that."

 _Crap._ I'd really gotten myself into a mess.

"I appreciate it, but it appears you need help the most right now."

I frowned in confusion.

"Tatia is still in there. Your mind and body belongs to you, not to the ghost of my first love. I know this may be hard for you to believe after everything you saw, but I love her, Davina. As tempting as it is to ask for your help in finding a permanent host for her, I cannot bring myself to do that. She deserves a second chance at happiness, but not this way. It would be extremely selfish of me to bring her into the world of the living just so I could ease my troubled conscience and atone for my sins. I don't deserve redemption."

 _You do,_ a voice whispered in my mind.

I hadn't said it.

It was Tatia.

My heart gave a painful squeeze as tears brimmed my eyes.

"Are you all right?" asked Elijah, looking seemingly distraught.

"I'm fine." I laughed, staring up at the ceiling to push back every drop.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, silently begging he would change the subject.

But he didn't.

"She heard me, didn't she?" he said, a hint of hope in his voice.

I got up and stood in front of the fireplace. I couldn't look at him. Not when _she_ was making me feel this way.

"Davina, look at me please."

 _No. I can't._

I could no longer hold my stubborn tears as they poured down my face.

 _Please go away, Tatia._

 _I miss him,_ she whispered.

"Davina." He gently grabbed my arm, and that's all it took. The river had run wild.

I spun around and faced the one vampire I should've fled from.

"I wish I could explain why I'm crying like an idiot out of the blue, but I have no explanation, okay? She's in there inside my head and she's manipulating all my feelings. It's torture, Elijah! I just want it to stop!"

I lied again. The _real_ torture was being inside Tatia's head, witnessing the bloodbaths in his dungeon of horrors. Experiencing her emotions was a piece of cake in comparison. I guess I just hated feeling any compassion toward him. He didn't deserve it. Logically, I knew what he was and what he had done. I should've loathed him. But I didn't, and that was only because of Tatia.

"I'm so sorry." Elijah softened his gaze.

Seeing the kindness in his eyes… it shocked me every time, because I could still remember the cruelty that lived within them; the sick, sadistic pleasure that swirled in those glistening, dark pools. Where was that cruelty now? Did it still exist? Was he hiding it?

I desperately searched for that monster as tears kept rolling down my cheeks uncontrollably.

 _Where are you? Show yourself._

But I couldn't find him. Either the monster had been killed, or was just asleep.

"I'm truly sorry," he repeated.

"Who are you apologizing to?" I said.

"To you."

My heart shivered when he touched my face and wiped my tears with gentle thumbs; the same hands that had tied her up and flogged her. The same hands that had slapped her in the face and bruised her black and blue.

"I hate you for what you did to her."

His hands fell away from my face as pain poured from his eyes. "I know. I hate myself more. Believe me."

I hugged myself and tried to find some sort of equilibrium.

"I'll make this right," he murmured. "I promise you. I don't deserve her forgiveness or yours, but I'm a man of my word. I will free you from the chains of my past, Davina."


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: This chapter will make or break this story. Considering the fact that Elijah and Davina are not a popular fanfic couple, I face a big challenge convincing my readers to believe in their romantic potential. I might just remove this story and turn it into something more original to post on another platform that caters to a bigger target audience in the dark romance/erotica genre. My narrative might be too dark for a fanfiction between a very unlikely pairing, though I see a super sexy chemistry between them—undiscovered on the show.

 _But_ … the ball is in _your_ court, lovelies. If you want this story to survive, please voice your support. Those of you who already have, thank you so much and I truly appreciate it! I guess my confidence is just wavering a bit at this point. I'm feeling a little ambivalent.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Music Inspired:

 _Edge of Dawn- Denial_

 _Depeche Mode- In Your Room (2006 Remastered Edition)_

 _SOHN-Proof_

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Heart of Darkness

DAVINA

All my life I felt like I was nothing but a burden, passed down from one person to another. It was a shitty feeling, to say the least. Ever since my Gran died, I became government property, in and out of foster homes at only seven years old. No one was ever kind enough to leave a positive impact on my life. I had horrible foster parents and the sad part was that most orphaned/abandoned children were just paychecks to these rotten people.

Glossing over my shitty childhood, when I reached my thirteenth birthday, a woman named Juliette Leroux tracked me down, claiming to be my "long-lost" aunt. She wasn't, though. Lying about her identity and providing fake documents seemed to be the only way she could adopt me and get me out of the foster care system. Living with her wasn't any better. Juliette was a mean old woman who only needed me because of my magical-blood line. She taught me everything I knew about ancestral magic and brain washed me into offering myself as a Harvest witch for the summer solstice sacrifice.

It still disturbs me when I think about how naïve I was. Marcelle had been the one to save me. Even though I didn't believe it at the time, he rescued me from certain death. There was no resurrection. It was all a lie that was told to every Harvest girl to make the slaughter easier. I was only fourteen years old when Marcelle abducted me. Why would a vampire care about a stupid teenage witch? I thought about that hundreds of times when he took me away. He'd been too late to save the others, but he saved me.

At the time, he'd explained that whatever the elders were planning, it wasn't going to be good for other supernatural creatures, that's why he sabotaged the harvest ritual. Hating vampires had been part of my indoctrination, but that slowly changed when I realized that Marcelle actually cared about me; a blood sucking vampire _did_ have a soul, and the Ancestors were wrong. That's when I decided that I would no longer fight for my coven in New Orleans. My loyalty was to Marcelle and him only.

Once the elders discovered I was still alive, they sent mercenaries to kill me—a majority were warlocks that had gone rogue: contract killers.

By fifteen I had become so powerful, and I was more than capable of protecting myself, but Marcelle didn't trust that I could handle twelve covens of hundreds of witches on my own. Within a three-year time-frame he hid me away in several places until he found a more permanent location: Father Kieran's church. I stayed there in solitude for months… until Klaus came to town.

Moving in with the Mikaelson's had restored some stability in my life. Spending time with Klaus made me happy. As much as it gave birth to constant anxiety, it was impossible to fight what I felt. We seemed to have so much in common. Klaus shared a love of art, as did I; we both loved to paint. He'd spent a majority of his childhood feeling unloved, abandoned, and unwanted, just like me.

I'd spent countless nights going over all the reasons why we belonged together. At only seventeen, our age gap never bothered me, nor the fact that he was a hybrid vampire. He'd shown me a vulnerable side to him that he didn't show to anyone else. I guess that's why it really gutted me to see that he was still in love with an old flame. Elena was a Petrova doppelganger, of course he'd fall in love with her. He'd fallen for Tatia all those years ago, but she didn't want Klaus, she loved Elijah.

It seemed that the only factor I had against me was my physical appearance. I should've been grateful to have inherited my mother's side of the gene pool, but I didn't look like Elena. Maybe things would have been different if I did. Maybe Klaus would've opened his heart to me and given me a chance.

But I digress… no point in ruminating over hypotheticals.

My only escape from reality while I lived in that attic was music, art, and reading. Marcelle always brought me anything I wanted. I fell in love with literature, especially the classics by writers such as: Poe, Stoker, Faulkner, Jane Austin… the list goes on. I'd transformed into a self-proclaimed book worm. I'd read so much that I was almost positive I was light years ahead of my peers when it came to English literature.

I used to fantasize about what it would be like to go to college and make new friends, go to parties, and meet a nice boyfriend… but it all seemed to belong to another world I wasn't allowed to live in. So, I spent my days in that lonely, rundown attic, sketching, reading, living in teenage fantasies while strengthening my magic for a war that would surely come.

I never intended to fall in love with Klaus. It happened accidentally. When I first met him, I thought he was hot—but intimidating. It didn't take very long to develop feelings for him, and those feelings only intensified when he insisted that Marcelle move me out of that attic and into his home, under _his_ protection. That's how I became a true ally to the Mikaelson family. Klaus offered his protection in exchange for my loyalty, and I was more than willing to give it to him.

The night of the winter ball was supposed to have been special. I'd wanted to go so badly. I wanted to tell him how I felt about him. Seeing him reunite with Elena tore me up inside. I didn't know how to deal with the hurt and jealousy. I did something impulsive and stupid. I conjured Tatia's spirit and everything came back to me a hundred times worse, like a heavy dose of karma.

" _On your knees, slave… Crawl to me… Take it off. Everything…"_

Elijah's voice interrupted my train of thought and echoed in my mind like a looping dark melody. I hadn't expected the sudden intrusion, especially since my focus was on Klaus.

Two weeks had passed since my discussion with Elijah in the library. I'd been avoiding him on purpose and I think he understood why. I couldn't be around him, not while Tatia was in my head.

Kora kept me company whenever she was cooking, but a huge chunk of my days was spent in that massive library by myself—reading, desperately trying to drown out Tatia's voice. Some days it was pure torture. It seemed that the more distance I put between me and Elijah, the louder her voice became.

Freya was supposed to have arrived a week ago, but due to unforeseen circumstances, she had to stay behind and help Klaus and Marcelle. According to what Elijah told me, war was breaking loose between the witches, wolves, and the vampires. Staying here was safer for me, though I much preferred to fight the good fight.

As I lay in bed, tossing and turning, I kept thinking about Tatia. Her memories had scarred me for life. I could never erase everything she showed me. Her love for Elijah had driven her to madness. _He_ had driven her to madness. I couldn't understand how she ever fell for him and _stayed_ with him. I could never love a man like that, a soulless monster. No matter how much he would've changed, it didn't matter. Elijah was like Jekyll and Hyde. He truly had a heart of darkness.

~oOo~

ELIJAH

" _Do you believe in the nobility of suicide?_ "

Tatia's words had haunted me like a vengeful phantom, risen from the grave, relentlessly tormenting me. Those words had branded my heart with guilt, never to fade. I didn't deserve peace. How foolish of me to have believed that I had found it after centuries' worth of self-loathing.

I still remembered the first time she asked me that question, as if it had happened yesterday… Her body covered in gushing lacerations… I'd made her suffer my twisted love beyond her mental and physical capacity, and she wanted to die. How eloquently she'd worded it, too, like a passionate poet, ready to forfeit her life by her own hand.

" _Do you believe in the nobility of suicide?_ "

Hearing those same words roll off Davina's tongue only brought me back to that cursed night when Tatia had whispered it to me… So broken… so crushingly broken… by me.

I knew it had been Tatia who must have influenced Davina to say it. She'd slipped away into catatonia after she asked me that question. When she had eventually regained control over her mind, she couldn't remember what she had asked me. It shouldn't have affected me as badly as it did, but I could not rip it away from my mind. I hadn't been able to sleep properly since that conversation.

All I could think about was the possible threat of Davina dying. What if Tatia wanted to finish what I had denied her all those years ago? Was this her revenge? Davina had assured me that she was not suicidal, but I couldn't trust Tatia. I could not ignore the possibility that Davina would become a victim of my crimes against my ex fiancé.

The hours quickly passed as I sat across the fireplace in the library, drinking my sorrows away into the night. For the past two weeks, I'd barricaded myself in my study in the west wing of the mansion, furthest away from Davina. She had made it clear that she needed to distance herself from me until Freya arrived. I understood why. The poor girl was overwhelmed and traumatized, sharing her mind and body with a woman who was broken and driven to insanity. I could only imagine the hell she suffered every day.

Adding to my shame, she was probably terrified to be in my presence. I didn't blame her. After everything she'd been subjected to, it was a miracle she hadn't lost her mind.

I gulped back what remained of my scotch on the rocks, welcoming the burn of alcohol chasing down my throat. My mind was a little foggy, but I held my liquor well. Curbing my blood lust was my number one priority. Niklaus would have feasted on the hired help and compelled them, though I couldn't bring myself to do that. I knew I needed blood, but I was patient enough to wait and stock up on blood bags tomorrow.

Ever since Tatia's return, I didn't trust myself to feed on the living, fearing my monster would escape from his prison, fearing I'd lose control. I felt… crippled. I was a master of discipline and control, but I knew the demon within was alive, _waiting_ : waiting for me to screw up.

My all-consuming thoughts evaporated when I heard a creaking noise.

"Davina?"

 _Your favorite innocence…_

 _Your favorite slave._

I reached for the remote on the table next to me and pointed it at the stereo, lowering the volume.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to wake you," I said, watching her step through the doors.

I was about to get up, when she told me not to.

Her white camisole clung to her slender body, barely covering her thighs as she padded toward me in bare feet. Her long brown hair flowed over her shoulders, wild and tousled. Evidently, she was dressed for bed, though it was hardly suitable attire to gallivant around the mansion in.

I forced myself to focus on her face and not her taut… physique.

Every nerve ending in my body fired up when she suddenly crawled onto my lap and sat astride, facing me. My skin came to life when she pressed her palms against my chest, coaxing my already unbuttoned shirt to open more. Her seductive gaze burned a hole through my soul, destroying the man with morals, resurrecting the beast.

I had to put a stop to this. Davina would never seduce me.

"Tatia, we—"

"Not Tatia." She shook her head, brushing her hands up my shoulders.

Liquid lust swirled in her ocean eyes, ripping logic from my brain in half a second.

"This isn't you, Davina." I fought for control, beating back my licentious depravities while she continued to touch me like a lover.

I was slowly… _unravelling_.

"Stop this," I sternly expressed, grabbing her arms to push her off, but she caught me off guard when she shamelessly groped my manhood, stroking the serpent to life.

" _I can't_ ," she whispered in my ear. "I don't want to."

I couldn't comprehend what was happening between us. Was I dreaming? Was this another treacherous nightmare baiting me? Only to end up with her dying and bleeding at my feet? I couldn't trust this situation. I had to dissuade it.

 _Living on your breath…_

 _Feeling with your skin…_

"This is what you want"—she bit my lip hard, tugging it back—"This is what you need"—she bit me again—" _Pain_ ," Davina breathed.

My resolve was weakening at a dangerously rapid rate, and before I could prove to myself that I was truly an enemy of temptation, her soft, sultry lips crashed against mine.

I froze. I couldn't move. Every synapse in my brain was firing like mad. I had a three second window of opportunity to stop her. In fact, three seconds was far too generous. I should have prevented the kiss.

But I didn't.

And I didn't pull away, either.

All this time, the deadly catalyst to my undoing had secretly been the sensual lips of Davina Claire. I'd been in danger ever since she moved into the family home and I didn't even know it. Temptation had always been right around the corner, which explained why I'd limited my interactions with her so much.

 _Prevention, not the cure:_ I _lived_ by this code, yet I failed to enforce it tonight.

Her insatiable lips, the minty taste of her tongue, the heat of her body pressed against mine obliterated every redeeming quality I possessed. Qualities I'd spent centuries working hard to build from the ground up: nobility, chivalry, self-control… it all went _poof_ , as soon as she kissed me and robbed me of my virtues.

Who was I kidding, though? She didn't rob me of anything, I willingly surrendered myself.

How easily my body betrayed me: a shameless submission to her wild and illogical rebellion—unquestionably out of character. _How dare I take advantage._ Whatever war she fought within herself, it was _my_ responsibility to protect her from me. Three weeks of careful calculation to prevent a situation like _this,_ and look what had happened. How carelessly I'd sabotaged my efforts. How pathetic. A failure. I'd miserably failed Davina.

I couldn't contain the blazing inferno that had engulfed me with her kiss. And now, it was engulfing her, the longer I kissed her, the deeper I went, the more passion I poured.

We were drowning in danger and instead of being her life raft, I was pulling her down into the waters with me.

Selfish.

So. Unforgivably. Selfish.

Yet I couldn't pull away. I had to taste her lust. Tasting it wasn't even enough. She was driving me mad with desire. I feared I would burn alive in that chair if I didn't impale myself so deep inside of her. She was pushing me.

 _Goddammit_ she was pushing.

A breathy moan fled from her lips when I squeezed her thighs, forging crescent moons into her delicate skin.

Half hoping and praying that I was only hallucinating, she granted me a moment of mercy when she withdrew for breath.

I inhaled.

She panted.

I would've initiated a kiss this time, but what I saw in her eyes pulled me right out of the red fog, painfully sobering me.

"I… I'm sorry." Her voice cracked, lips quivering.

Fear? Trauma? Regret? What was it, Goddammit!

"I'm so embarrassed," Davina teared up.

She nearly stumbled as she scrambled off my lap.

This wasn't good. I had to fix this. I screwed up. It was _my_ fault, not hers.

"Davina, wait!" I called out.

But as soon as I got my bearings, she was gone.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Never Again

DAVINA

"How could you!?"

 _I apologize._

"You can't just do things like that and expect me to be okay with it!"

 _I miss him._

I paced my bedroom like a crazy person, half enraged, half traumatized, _completely_ losing my mind.

"Don't _ever_ do that again!"

My emotions were all over the place. The worst part was that these feelings weren't even entirely mine, yet I was forced to feel _everything_ _she_ felt, everything _she_ craved.

Elijah hadn't followed me and I was thankful that he didn't. What happened between us… I was mortified.

As I stormed into the bathroom, I turned on the tap and splashed some water on my face. I felt unbearably feverish. I couldn't tell if it was a symptom of my rage or because of…

No. I had to put it out of my mind. I had to pretend as if it never happened. Never mind the fact that I still tasted him; how my lips still tingled with sensation…

"Never should've happened," I muttered to myself, splashing more water on my face.

 _What sort of game are you playing at, Tatia? We had an agreement!_

All those painful memories… I'd safely locked them away to protect her—to protect my mind from her insanity. I didn't know that by doing that it would reignite her undying love for the oldest Original alive. She'd forgotten the monster. She couldn't remember him. But I did.

 _Please let me speak to him,_ Tatia pleaded.

 _Not after what you made me do tonight!_

 _You felt it too, Davina._

 _Felt what?_

 _I merely amplified that desire and made it stronger._

 _What desire?_

 _You cannot deny it. I can see it. You could have easily told Elijah that it was me, but you didn't, because it_ wasn't _me. I took advantage of your secret desire, and for that I apologize. I just wanted to be closer to him. I desperately miss him._

It was still bizarre to hear the voice of a 10th century dead person in my head all the time. I wondered if I'd ever get used to it. Then again, I didn't wantto get used to it. I had to believe that Freya would help me. I'd got myself into this nightmare, but I had to have faith that it would end.

I looked at my reflection in the mirror and squeezed my eyes shut.

 _Promise me you won't ever do this again, Tatia. That was unfair. I may be the one steering the wheel but I can't have you opening doors in my mind that are closed off to you. Do you understand?_

 _I understand._

I sighed in relief, thankful for a moment of silence.

But it didn't last.

 _You fancy him._

"I do not!"

I shouldn't have yelled. She was more than capable of hearing through telepathy.

 _It's all right. I'm not upset by it. Perhaps only a little… envious._

 _Enough! I don't find him attractive! He's not my type! He's a vampire!_

 _So is Niklaus, yet you still hold him close to your heart._

I didn't like her poking and prodding my mind for secrets. It wasn't fair.

 _I'm tired, Tatia. Leave it alone for tonight, please. I need sleep._

 _Will you please let me see him tomorrow?_

 _I don't think I have any other choice._

Knowing Elijah, he would've made sure we had some sort of conversation after everything that happened tonight, no matter how awkward it was going to be.

 _I wish you a sweet slumber_ , said Tatia, fading away to wherever she went while I slept.

My mind was divided. Somehow, I'd managed to protect her from all her nightmares. Even when I consciously recalled her memories, she remained bullet proof. The painful recollections never touched her soul; they just tainted mine.

~oOo~

I couldn't bring myself to enter the library the next day. It had become routine to just hide away in there for hours after Kora made me breakfast, but I couldn't even go near it. Last night's images were still too fresh in my head.

"Master Mikaelson won't be home until late this evening," Viktor informed. "You are more than welcome to explore the mansion, so long as you avoid the west wing."

"What's in the west wing?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"The Master's quarters."

Ah. Well, I didn't want to go anywhere near there.

"Where did Elijah go?"

"I am not privy to disclose that information."

 _Sigh._

"Thanks anyway, Viktor."

He bowed his head. "Miss Claire."

Now that I was alone, I decided that there really was nothing else to do besides exploring this ginormous place—strictly out of boredom.

As I passed through regal corridors and spacious parlors, the baroque design of the rooms and furniture reminded me of the renaissance era. The ceilings were tremendously high and the woodwork was just beautiful: marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, sculptures and paintings… everything was out of this world. I felt like I was in a museum.

I wasn't sure exactly where this mansion was located, but Elijah had said that we were four hours away from the city. Apparently, it was safer for me not to know where.

After everything I'd seen, I couldn't help but wonder how he had transformed into such a monster. I wish Tatia had the answers. If she'd never shared her memories with me, I never would've believed that Elijah was capable of such vicious violence.

Did he still have sadistic tendencies? Was there another torture dungeon somewhere in the Mikaelson manor? In here, perhaps? So many questions: all of which I had to resolve on my own.

I still felt bad for pretending that there was a genuine threat, when _I_ was the one responsible for this mess. I just couldn't tell them the truth. If Freya wouldn't be able to help me, then I needed to get my hands on Juliette's grimoires. Staying in this massive mansion and waiting only prolonged my day-to-day torture. As much as I'd grown to sympathize with Tatia, I didn't want her living in my head anymore.


End file.
